Of all that living are, who loves a man that speaketh well?

I know not one. For now a days for deeds that do excel

Men care not to be praised: but all are overcome with gain. }

For every man looks round, with hand in bosom, whence amain }

Coin he may get: whose rust rubbed off, he will not give again. }

But straightway thus he says, "The leg is further than the knee,

Let me have gold enough; the gods to Poets pay their fee!"

Who would another hear, "Enough for all, one HOMER is;

Of poets he is Prince: yet gets he nought of me iwis!"

Madmen, what gain is this, to hoard up bags of gold within?

This is not money's use, nor hath to wise men ever been!

But part is due unto ourselves, part to the Poet's pen;

And many kinsfolk must be pleasured, and many men:

And often to the gods thou must do solemn sacrifice.

Nor must thou keep a sparing house: but when, in friendly wise,

Thou hast receivèd strangers at thy board; when they will thence,

Let them depart! But chiefly Poets must thou reverence!

That after thou art hidden in thy grave, thou mayest hear well!

Nor basely mayest thou mourn when thou in Acheron dost dwell!

Like to some ditcher vile, whose hands with work are hard and dry;

Who from his parents poor, bewails his life in beggary.

In King ANTIOCHUS his Court, and King ALEVAS' too

To distribute the monthly bread a many had to do.

The Scopedans had many droves of calves, which in their stalls

'Mong oxen lowed; and shepherds kept, in the Cranonian dales,

Infinite flocks to bear the hospital [_hospitable_] CREONDAN's

charge. }

No pleasure should these men enjoy of their expenses large, }

When once their souls they had embarked in the Infernal Barge; }

But leaving all this wealth behind, in wretched misery

Among the dead, without renown, for ever they should lie:

Had not SIMONIDES the Chian Poet, with his pen

And with his lute of many strings so famous made these men

To all posterity. The very horses were renowned;

Which, from their races swift returned, with olive garlands crowned.

Whoever should have known the Lycian Princes and their race,

Or them of Troy, of CIGNUS [_CYCNUS_] with his woman's coloured face:

Had not the Poets sung the famous Wars of them of old?

Nor yet ULYSSES (who, for ten years space on seas was rolled,

By sundry sorts of men; and who at last went down to Hell

As yet alive; and from the CYCLOPS' den escapèd well)

Had got such lasting fame: and drowned should lie in silence deep

Swineherd EUMÆUS, and PHILÆTUS who had to keep

A herd of neat; LAERTES eke himself had been unknown--

If far and wide their names, great HOMER's verses had not blown.

Immortal fame to mortal men, the Muses nine do give:

But dead men's wealth is spent and quite consumed of them that live.

But all one pain[s] it is, to number waves upon the banks,

Whereof great store, the wind from sea doth blow to land in ranks;

Or for to wash a brick with water clear till it be white:

As for to move a man whom avarice doth once delight.

Therefore "Adieu!" to such a one for me! and let him have

Huge silver heaps at will, and more and more still let him crave!

But I, Goodwill of Men, and Honour, will prefer before

A many mules of price, or many horses kept in store.

Therefore I ask, To whom shall I be welcome with my train

Of Muses nine? whose ways are hard, if JOVE guides not the rein.

The heavens yet have not left to roll both months and years on reels;

And many horses yet shall turn about the Chariot's wheels:

The man shall rise that shall have need of me to set him out;

Doing such deeds of arms as AJAX, or ACHILLES stout,

Did in the field of Simois, where ILUS' bones do rest

And now the Carthaginians, inhabiting the West,

Who in the utmost end of Liby' dwell, in arms are prest:

And now the Syracuseans their spears do carry in the rest;

Whose left arms laden are with targets made of willow tree.

'Mongst whom King HIERO, the ancient Worthies' match, I see

In armour shine; whose plume doth overshade his helmet bright.

O JUPITER, and thou MINERVA fierce in fight,

And thou PROSERPINA (who, with thy mother, has renown

By Lysimelia streams, in Ephyra that wealthy town),

Out of our island drive our enemies, our bitter fate,

Along the Sardine sea! that death of friends they may relate

Unto their children and their wives! and that the town opprest

By enemies, of th' old inhabitants may be possesst!

That they may till the fields! and sheep upon the downs may bleat

By thousands infinite, and fat! and that the herds of neat

As to their stalls they go, may press the ling'ring traveller!

Let grounds be broken up for seed, what time the grasshopper

Watching the shepherds by their flocks, in boughs close singing lies!

And let the spiders spread their slender webs in armories;

So that of War, the very name may not be heard again!

But let the Poets strive, King HIERO's glory for to strain

Beyond the Scythean sea; and far beyond those places where

SEMIRAMIS did build those stately walls, and rule did bear.

'Mongst whom, I will be one: for many other men beside,

JOVE's daughters love; whose study still shall be, both far and wide,

Sicilian Arethusa, with the people, to advance;

And warlike HIERO. Ye Graces! (who keep resiance [_residence_]

In the Thessalian Mount Orchomenus; to Thebes of old

So hateful, though of you beloved) to stay I will be bold,

Where I am bid to come: and I with them will still remain,

That shall invite me to their house, with all my Muses' train.

Nor you, will I forsake! For what to men can lovely be

Without your company? The Graces always be with me!

Emblem.

_Si nihil attuleris, ibis HOMERE foras._

[Illustration]

THE EIGHTEENTH IDILLION.

Argument.

Twelve noble Spartan Virgins are brought in singing, in the

evening, at the chamber door of MENELAUS and HELENA on their

Wedding Day. And first they prettily jest with the Bridegroom, then

they praise HELENA, last they wish them both joy of their marriage.

Therefore this Idillion is entitled _HELEN's Epithalamion_ that is

"HELEN's Wedding Song."

_HELEN's Epithalamion_.

[Illustration]

In Sparta, long ago, where MENELAUS wore the crown,

Twelve noble Virgins, daughters to the greatest in the town,

All dight upon their hair in crowtoe [_hyacinth_] garlands fresh

and green,

Danced at the chamber door of HELENA the Queen:

What time this MENELAUS, the younger son of ATREUS,

Did marry with this lovely daughter of Prince TYNDARUS;

And therewithal, at eve, a Wedding Song they jointly sang,

With such a shuffling of their feet that all the palace rang.

"Fair Bridegroom, do you sleep? Hath slumber all your limbs

possesst? }

What, are you drowsy? or hath wine your body so oppresst }

That you are gone to bed? For if you needs would take your rest, }

You should have ta'en a season meet. Mean time, till it be day

Suffer the Bride with us, and with her mother dear, to play!

For, MENELAUS, She, at evening and at morning tide.

From day to day, and year to year, shall be thy loving Bride.

"O happy Bridegroom, sure some honest man did sneeze to thee,

When thou to Sparta came, to meet with such a one as She!

Among the demi-gods thou only art accounted meet }

To be the Son-in-law to JOVE! for underneath one sheet }

His daughter lies with thee! Of all that tread on ground with feet }

There is not such a one in Greece! Now sure some goodly thing

She will thee bear; if it be like the mother that she bring.

For we, her peers in age, whose course of life is e'en the same;

Who, at Eurotas' streams, like men, are oilèd to the game:

And four times sixty Maids, of all the women youth we are;

Of these none wants a fault, if her with HELEN we compare.

Like as the rising morn shews a grateful lightening,

When sacred night is past; and Winter now lets loose the Spring:

So glittering HELEN shined among her Maids, lusty and tall.

As is the furrow in a field that far outstretcheth all;

Or in a garden is a cypress tree; or in a trace,

A steed of Thessaly; so She to Sparta was a grace.

No damsel with such works as She, her baskets used to fill;

Nor in a divers coloured web, a woof of greater skill

Doth cut off from the loom; nor any hath such Songs and Lays

Unto her dainty harp, in DIAN's and MINERVA's praise,

As HELEN hath: in whose bright eyes all Loves and Graces be.

"O fair, O lovely Maid! a Matron is now made of thee!

But we will, every Spring, unto the leaves in meadow go

To gather garlands sweet; and there, not with a little woe,

Will often think of thee, O HELEN! as the suckling lambs

Desire the strouting bags and presence of their tender dams.

We all betimes for thee, a wreath of melitoe will knit;

And on a shady plane for thee will safely fasten it.

And all betimes for thee, under a shady plane below,

Out of a silver box the sweetest ointment will bestow.

And letters shall be written in the bark that men may see,

And read, DO HUMBLE REVERENCE, FOR I AM HELEN'S TREE!

"Sweet Bride, good night! and thou, O happy Bridegroom, now good

night!

LATONA send your happy issue! who is most of might

In helping youth; and blissful VENUS send you equal love

Betwixt you both! and JOVE give lasting riches from above,

Which from your noble selves, unto your noble imps may fall!

Sleep on, and breathe into your breasts desires mutual!

But in the morning, wake! Forget it not in any wise!

And we will then return; as soon as any one shall rise

And in the chamber stir, and first of all lift up the head!

HYMEN! O HYMEN! now be gladsome at this marriage bed!"

Emblem.

_Usque adeo latet utilitas._

THE TWENTY-FIRST IDILLION.

Argument.

A Neatherd is brought chafing that EUNICA, a Maid of the city,

disdained to kiss him. Whereby it is thought that THEOCRITUS

seemeth to check them that think this kind of writing in Poetry

to be too base and rustical. And therefore this Poem is termed

_Neatherd_.

_NEATHERD._

[Illustration]

Eunica scorned me, when her I would have sweetly kist

And railing at me said, "Go with a mischief, where thou list!

Thinkest thou, a wretched Neatherd, me to kiss! I have no will

After the country guise to smouch! Of city lips I skill!

My lovely mouth, so much as in thy dream, thou shalt not touch!

How dost thou look! How dost thou talk! How play'st thou the slouch!

How daintily thou speak'st! What Courting words thou bringest out!

How soft a beard thou hast! How fair thy locks hang round about!

Thy lips are like a sick man's lips! thy hands, so black they be!

And rankly thou dost smell! Away, lest thou defilest me!"

Having thus said, she spattered on her bosom twice or thrice;

And, still beholding me from top to toe in scornful wise,

She muttered with her lips; and with her eyes she looked aside,

And of her beauty wondrous coy she was; her mouth she wryed,

And proudly mocked me to my face. My blood boiled in each vein,

And red I wox for grief as doth the rose with dewy rain.

Thus leaving me, away she flang! Since when, it vexeth me

That I should be so scorned of such a filthy drab as She.

"Ye shepherds, tell me true, am not I as fair as any swan?

Hath of a sudden any god made me another man?

For well I wot, before a comely grace in me did shine,

Like ivy round about a tree, and decked this beard of mine.

My crispèd locks, like parsley, on my temples wont to spread;

And on my eyebrows black a milk white forehead glisterèd:

More seemly were mine eyes than are MINERVA's eyes, I know.

My mouth for sweetness passèd cheese; and from my mouth did flow

A voice more sweet than honeycombs. Sweet is my Roundelay

When on the whistle, flute, or pipe, or cornet I do play.

And all the women on our hills do say that I am fair,

And all do love me well: but these that breathe the city air

Did never love me yet. And why? The cause is this I know.

That I a Neatherd am. They hear not how in vales below,

Fair BACCHUS kept a herd of beasts. Nor can these nice ones tell

How VENUS, raving for a Neatherd's love, with him did dwell

Upon the hills of Phrygia; and how she loved again

ADONIS in the woods, and mourned in woods when he was slain.

Who was ENDYMION? Was he not a Neatherd? Yet the Moon

Did love this Neatherd so, that, from the heavens descending soon,

She came to Latmos grove where with the dainty lad she lay.

And RHEA, thou a Neatherd dost bewail! and thou, all day,

O mighty JUPITER! but for a shepherd's boy didst stray!

EUNICA only, deigned not a Neatherd for to love:

Better, forsooth, than CYBEL, VENUS, or the Moon above!

And VENUS, thou hereafter must not love thy fair ADONE

In city, nor on hill! but all the night must sleep alone!"

Emblem.

_Habitarunt Dii quoque sylvas._

THE THIRTY-FIRST IDILLION.

Argument

The conceit of this Idillion is very delicate. Wherein it is

imagined how VENUS did send for the Boar who in hunting slew

ADONIS, a dainty youth whom she loved: and how the Boar answering

for himself that he slew him against his will, as being enamoured

on him, and thinking only to kiss his naked thigh; she forgave him.

The Poet's drift is to shew the power of Love, not only in men,

but also in brute beasts: although in the last two verses, by the

burning of the Boar's amorous teeth, he intimateth that extravagant

and unorderly passions are to be restrained by reason.

_ADONIS._

[Illustration]

When VENUS first did see

ADONIS dead to be;

With woeful tattered hair

And cheeks so wan and sear,

The wingèd Loves she bade,

The Boar should straight be had.

Forthwith like birds they fly,

And through the wood they hie;

The woeful beast they find,

And him with cords they bind.

One with a rope before

Doth lead the captive Boar:

Another on his back

Doth make his bow to crack.

The beast went wretchedly,

For VENUS horribly

He feared; who thus him curst:

"Of all the beasts the worst,

Didst thou this thigh so wound?

Didst thou my Love confound?"

The beast thus spake in fear

"VENUS, to thee I swear!

By thee, and husband thine,

And by these bands of mine,

And by these hunters all,

Thy husband fair and tall,

I mindèd not to kill!

But, as an image still,

I him beheld for love:

Which made me forward shove

His thigh, that naked was;

Thinking to kiss, alas,

And that hath hurt me thus.

"Wherefore these teeth, VENUS!

Or punish, or cut out:

Why bear I in my snout

These needless teeth about!

If these may not suffice;

Cut off my chaps likewise!"

To ruth he VENUS moves,

And she commands the Loves,

His bands for to untie.

After he came not nigh

The wood; but at her will

He followed VENUS still.

And coming to the fire,

He burnt up his desire.

Emblem.

_Raris forma viris, secula prospice

Impunita fuit._

FINIS.

[Illustration]

The Affectionate

Shepheard.

Containing the Complaint of _Daphnis_ for

the loue of _Ganymede_.

_Amor plus mellis, quam fellis, est._

[Illustration]

LONDON,

Printed by Iohn Danter for T.G. and E.N.

and are to bee sold in Saint Dunstones

Church-yeard in Fleetstreet,

1594.

[Illustration]

To the Right Excellent

and most beautifull Lady, the Ladie

PENELOPE RITCH.

[Illustration]

_Fayre louely Ladie, vvhose Angelique eyes

Are Vestall Candles of sweet Beauties Treasure,

Whose speech is able to inchaunt the wise,

Conuerting Ioy to Paine, and Paine to Pleasure;

Accept this simple Toy of my Soules Dutie,

Which I present vnto thy matchles Beautie._

_And albeit the gift be all too meane,

Too meane an Offring for thine Iuorie Shrine;

Yet must thy Beautie my iust blame susteane,

Since it is mortall, but thy selfe diuine.

Then (Noble Ladie) take in gentle vvorth,

This new-borne Babe which here my Muse brings forth._

Your Honours most affectionate

and perpetually deuoted Shepheard:

_DAPHNIS_.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

The Teares of an

affectionate Shepheard sicke

for Loue.

_OR_

The Complaint of _Daphnis_ for the Loue

of _Ganimede_.

[Illustration]

Scarce had the morning Starre hid from the light

Heauens crimson Canopie with stars bespangled,

But I began to rue th'vnhappy sight

Of that faire Boy that had my hart intangled;

Cursing the Time, the Place, the sense, the sin;

I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in.

If it be sinne to loue a sweet-fac'd Boy,

(Whose amber locks trust vp in golden tramels

Dangle adowne his louely cheekes with ioy,

When pearle and flowers his faire haire enamels)

If it be sinne to loue a louely Lad;

Oh then sinne I, for whom my soule is sad.

His Iuory-white and Alabaster skin

Is staind throughout with rare Vermillion red,

Whose twinckling starrie lights do neuer blin

To shine on louely _Venus_ (Beauties bed:)

But as the Lillie and the blushing Rose,

So white and red on him in order growes.

Vpon a time the Nymphs bestird them-selues

To trie who could his beautie soonest win:

But he accounted them but all as Elues,

Except it were the faire Queene _Guendolen_,

Her he embrac'd, of her was beloued,

With plaints he proued, and with teares he moued.

But her an Old-Man had beene sutor too,

That in his age began to doate againe;

Her would he often pray, and often woo,

When through old-age enfeebled was his Braine:

But she before had lou'd a lustie youth

That now was dead, the cause of all her ruth.

And thus it hapned, Death and _Cupid_ met

Vpon a time at swilling _Bacchus_ house,

Where daintie cates vpon the Board were set,

And Goblets full of wine to drinke carouse:

Where Loue and Death did loue the licor so,

That out they fall and to the fray they goe.

And hauing both their Quiuers at their backe

Fild full of Arrows; Th'one of fatall steele,

The other all of gold; Deaths shaft was black,

But Loues was yellow: Fortune turnd her wheele;

And from Deaths Quiuer fell a fatall shaft,

That vnder _Cupid_ by the winde was waft.

And at the same time by ill hap there fell

Another Arrow out of _Cupids_ Quiuer;

The which was carried by the winde at will,

And vnder Death the amorous shaft did shiuer:

They being parted, Loue tooke vp Deaths dart,

And Death tooke vp Loues Arrow (for his part.)

Thus as they wandred both about the world,

At last Death met with one of feeble age:

Wherewith he drew a shaft and at him hurld

The vnknowne Arrow; (with a furious rage)

Thinking to strike him dead with Deaths blacke dart,

But he (alas) with Loue did wound his hart.

This was the doting foole, this was the man

That lou'd faire _Guendolena_ Queene of Beautie;

Shee cannot shake him off, doo what she can,

For he hath vowd to her his soules last duety:

Making him trim vpon the holy-daies;

And crownes his Loue with Garlands made of Baies.

Now doth he stroke his Beard; and now (againe)

He wipes the driuel from his filthy chin;

Now offers he a kisse; but high Disdaine

Will not permit her hart to pity him:

Her hart more hard than Adamant or steele,

Her hart more changeable than Fortunes wheele.

But leaue we him in loue (vp to the eares)

And tell how Loue behau'd himselfe abroad;

Who seeing one that mourned still in teares

(a young-man groaning vnder Loues great Load)

Thinking to ease his Burden, rid his paines:

For men haue griefe as long as life remaines.

Alas (the while) that vnawares he drue

The fatall shaft that Death had dropt before;

By which deceit great harme did then issue,

Stayning his face with blood and filthy goare.

His face, that was to _Guendolen_ more deere

Than loue of Lords, of any lordly Peere.

This was that faire and beautifull young-man,

Whom _Guendolena_ so lamented for;

This is that Loue whom she doth curse and ban,

Because she doth that dismall chaunce abhor:

And if it were not for his Mothers sake,

Euen _Ganimede_ himselfe she would forsake.

Oh would shee would forsake my _Ganimede_,

Whose sugred loue is full of sweete delight,

Vpon whose fore-head you may plainely reade

Loues Pleasure, grau'd in yuorie Tables bright:

In whose faire eye-balls you may clearely see

Base Loue still staind with foule indignitie.

Oh would to God he would but pitty mee,

That loue him more than any mortall wight;

Then he and I with loue would soone agree,

That now cannot abide his Sutors sight.

O would to God (so I might haue my fee)

My lips were honey, and thy mouth a Bee.

Then shouldst thou sucke my sweete and my faire flower

That now is ripe, and full of honey-berries:

Then would I leade thee to my pleasant Bower

Fild full of Grapes, of Mulberries, and Cherries;

Then shouldst thou be my Waspe or else my Bee,

I would thy hiue, and thou my honey bee.

I would put amber Bracelets on thy wrests,

Crownets of Pearle about thy naked Armes:

And when thou sitst at swilling _Bacchus_ feasts

My lips with charmes should saue thee from all harmes:

And when in sleepe thou tookst thy chiefest Pleasure,

Mine eyes should gaze vpon thine eye-lids Treasure.

And euery Morne by dawning of the day,

When _Phœbus_ riseth with a blushing face,

_Siluanus_ Chappel-Clarkes shall chaunt a Lay,

And play thee hunts-vp in thy resting place:

My Coote thy Chamber, my bosome thy Bed;

Shall be appointed for thy sleepy head.

And when it pleaseth thee to walke abroad,

(Abroad into the fields to take fresh ayre:)

The Meades with _Floras_ treasure should be strowde,

(The mantled meaddowes, and the fields so fayre.)

And by a siluer Well (with golden sands)

Ile sit me downe, and wash thine yuory hands.

And in the sweltring heate of summer time,

I would make Cabinets for thee (my Loue:)

Sweet-smelling Arbours made of Eglantine

Should be thy shrine, and I would be thy Doue.

Coole Cabinets of fresh greene Laurell boughs

Should shadow vs, ore-set with thicke-set Eughes.

Or if thou list to bathe thy naked limbs,

Within the Christall of a Pearle-bright brooke,

Paued with dainty pibbles to the brims;

Or cleare, wherein thyselfe thy selfe mayst looke;

Weele goe to _Ladon_, whose still trickling noyse,

Will lull thee fast asleepe amids thy ioyes.

Or if thoult goe vnto the Riuer side,

To angle for the sweet fresh-water fish:

Arm'd with thy implements that will abide

(Thy rod, hooke, line) to take a dainty dish;

Thy rods shall be of cane, thy lines of silke,

Thy hooks of siluer, and thy bayts of milke.

Or if thou lou'st to heare sweet Melodie,

Or pipe a Round vpon an Oaten Reede,

Or make thy selfe glad with some myrthfull glee,

Or play them Musicke whilst thy flocke doth feede;

To _Pans_ owne Pipe Ile helpe my louely Lad,

(_Pans_ golden Pype) which he of _Syrinx_ had.

Or if thou dar'st to climbe the highest Trees

For Apples, Cherries, Medlars, Peares, or Plumbs,

Nuts, Walnuts, Filbeards, Chest-nuts, Ceruices,

The hoary Peach, when snowy winter comes;

I have fine Orchards full of mellowed frute;

Which I will giue thee to obtain my sute.

Not proud _Alcynous_ himselfe can vaunt,

Of goodlier Orchards or of brauer Trees

Than I haue planted; yet thou wilt not graunt

My simple sute; but like the honey Bees

Thou suckst the flowre till all the sweet be gone;

And lou'st mee for my Coyne till I haue none.

Leave _Guendolen_ (sweet hart) though she be faire

Yet is she light; not light in vertue shining:

But light in her behauiour, to impaire

Her honour in her Chastities declining;

Trust not her teares, for they can watonnize,

When teares in pearle are trickling from her eyes.

If thou wilt come and dwell with me at home;

My sheep-cote shall be strowd with new greene rushes:

Weele haunt the trembling Prickets as they rome

About the fields, along the hauthorne bushes;

I haue a pie-bald Curre to hunt the Hare:

So we will liue with daintie forrest fare.

Nay more than this, I haue a Garden-plot,

Wherein there wants nor hearbs, nor roots, nor flowers;

(Flowers to smell, roots to eate, hearbs for the pot,)

And dainty Shelters when the Welkin lowers:

Sweet-smelling Beds of Lillies and of Roses,

Which Rosemary banks and Lauender incloses.

There growes the Gilliflowre, the Mynt, the Dayzie

(Both red and white,) the blew-veynd-Violet:

The purple Hyacinth, the Spyke to please thee,

The scarlet dyde Carnation bleeding yet;

The Sage, the Sauery, and sweet Margerum,

Isop, Tyme, and Eye-bright, good for the blinde and dumbe.

The Pinke, the Primrose, Cowslip, and Daffadilly,

The Hare-bell blue, the crimson Cullumbine,

Sage, Lettis, Parsley, and the milke-white Lilly,

The Rose, and speckled flowre cald Sops in wine,

Fine pretie King-cups, and the yellow Bootes,

That growes by Riuers, and by shallow Brookes.

And manie thousand moe (I cannot name)

Of hearbs and flowers that in gardens grow,

I haue for thee; and Coneyes that be tame,

Yong Rabbets, white as Swan, and blacke as Crow,

Some speckled here and there with daintie spots:

And more I haue two mylch and milke-white Goates.

All these, and more, Ile giue thee for thy loue;

If these, and more, may tyce thy loue away:

I haue a Pidgeon-house, in it a Doue,

Which I loue more than mortall tongue can say:

And last of all, Ile giue thee a little Lambe

To play withall, new weaned from her Dam.

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